


Role Praying

by MXRI



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MXRI/pseuds/MXRI
Summary: Talent is something you make bloom. Instinct is something you polish.





	Role Praying

**Author's Note:**

> this is old but i forgot to ever post this here anyways listen to "role praying" by ito kashitaro my dudes

"A flower rose from the street! Far away they pass by, trams, buses, rivers of steel traffic. A flower, though faded, evades the police, breaks the asphalt. Be completely silent, stop your business; I assure you that a flower rose. Its color is unnoticed, its petals don’t open; its name is not in the books. It is ugly. But it is truly a flower. (...) It is ugly. But it is a flower. It pierced the asphalt, the boredom, the disgust and the hate."

* * *

   Oikawa Tōru was not a genius. The man himself had made that point very clear back in his Kitagawa Daiichi days, when Kageyama Tobio first came around. Kageyama was a year younger than him, but so evidently far ahead when it came to his skills. He didn't have to try; he was a natural-born genius.

   You, in opposition to his assumptions, didn't see Oikawa as any less worthy of praise or attention, genius or not. You lost count on the amount of times you came across the boy practicing his serves all by himself, long after practice was finished. And so, what made him so different from Kageyama?

   Oikawa, just like any other, had to work his ass off to hone his skills. He wasn't perfect, far from being considered a genius, but he had his willpower. His thirst for growth and improvement. The boy was trying his very best and that was admirable. If anything, that only made him more human.

   When high school came around, you and Oikawa didn't hang out as much. If you ever crossed paths, you would merely greet him with a good morning out of politeness, nothing more than that. You had your own clubs to attend to, so there wasn't ever time for you to stop by his volleyball practice.

For old time's sake.

   Weeks had gone by, until you stumbled across a sadder looking cowlicked brunette. Oikawa always seemed in high spirits, like rays of sunshine with every step he took. You came to ponder if it would be too straightforward to ask him what was wrong. . . You were close friends once, after all.

   You gently tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and warmly, almost in a whisper, asked if everything was okay. He seemed to be shaken up at first; even if your concern was genuine, it surely had been a long time since you last chatted properly. But he wasn't complaining.

   "I got dumped because apparently I'm too obsessed with volleyball." He tried to sound a little less monotone, in a fail attempt to humor you.

   You let out a sigh, rather than out of pity or mockery, you weren't so sure. Was he stupid for being passionate about his hobbies? If he wanted to make a living out of it in a few year's time then that was alright, but to think on his priorities. . .

   It felt bittersweet.

   You wanted to call out to his recklessness, but you simply couldn't. You weren't going to martyrize him for following his dreams rather than focusing on high school relationships. Oikawa was still down, you wouldn't brush that aside – so what would you say?

   "To think you'd need to be with someone who respects your personal space when it comes to your hobbies. . . Or no one at all." You pursed your lips, your brows drawn together in thoughtful consideration. "But maybe you are totally obsessed with volleyball. Maybe volleyball is the air you breathe; it's all a matter of perspective."

   "In all seriousness," You added. "If you don't think you're fit for a serious, long-term commitment then simply just don't go for it. Maybe I'm too harsh with my words, but to still see you glowing, after all these years. . . I look up to you a lot, Tōru."

* * *

    Since then, no words had been exchanged between the two of you. Ironically or not, Oikawa was just as busy with regular practice hours in the evening. And so you figured. . .  _I could not go to the club today and stop by their gymnasium. Just this once._

By the time you stopped by, you saw Oikawa land his powerful jump-serve, which made you notice the knee supporter he wore. . . Did he strain himself? Overexertion? What if he had to quit playing because of that? Surely quite a few players were known to have to refrain from practicing said sport because on an injury. . .

   It couldn't be that serious. Oikawa seemed alright and you chose to believe no harm had been done. He didn't seem to be in pain nor did he seem to limp. _He's good, I'm sure. Just getting ahead of myself. Though it wouldn't hurt to ask. . . I worry, that's all._

When the practice for the day was over, you waited patiently for the boys to change and pack their belongings before you decided to approach Oikawa. He was surprised, in awe, to see you had paid him a visit. How badly he missed the times you two were inseparable. . .

   You politely requested if you could talk for a moment, to which he gladly agreed to, him following you suit just outside the gymnasium. "What's on your mind?"

   "I've come to notice you're wearing a knee supporter. . . Is everything alright?" You thought maybe you were thinking too much of it, nonetheless, that didn't stop you from being concerned about his well-being. Just because you drifted apart from one another, that didn't mean you stopped worrying. Far from it.

   Oikawa heaved out, a hand scratching the back of his head. Although he tried to remain with a sympathetic expression on his face, he had to admit that injury was the result of his own trial and error. "I might've strained myself a little more than I could've handled, but I can still play."

   You took notice he didn't seem as bothered as you'd at least expect someone to be after sustaining an injury because of one's overwork. If he wasn't as careful, who knows what could happen to his future in volleyball. 

   "I don't think that's something you should take lightly."

    Oikawa's expression became serious, his head turned to the side so he wouldn't look at you. "You wouldn't understand." His voice came as a faint, apathetic whisper.

   "Then help me understand!" You retorted, your voice stern and your gaze firm upon him. "Is it all because of Kageyama? Or Shiratorizawa? Listen, I'm just trying to help but you need to be more honest with yourself."

   Oikawa went silent for a couple of minutes, as if cautiously thinking of his every word. "Have you ever felt like you were the best at something until, out of nowhere, this feeling of pride was taken from you? You pour your heart and soul into something just to have it brushed to the side because, as it turns out, you're just not that great?"

   "Because that's what it feels like, [Y/N]." He finally dared to place his gaze upon you, a heartfelt look through his eyes. "And it hurts. It hurts that no matter how hard I try, things aren't going to change." Oikawa paused for a moment, a humorless chuckle leaving his lips. "I know I won't fly. That's just how life is."

   "And what makes you think it's your obligation to accept the way things are?" You hated to see your old friend disregarding his own talents, raising your voice was practically unavoidable. "So what if people have surpassed you? Does that mean you have to give up?"

   "Tōru, I'm not telling you how to life your life but just hear me out for a moment." You stepped closer to him, taking both of his hands in yours. "Have you ever come across those unusual flowers that sprout from the concrete? Do you think the circumstances they're in prevent them from blooming?"

   "If you think you're not capable of flying, then that's your call to make. I just think you should cut yourself some slack. You're still young; give yourself some time to mature and bloom. In no time you'll be certainly sprouting from the concrete, and I'll be there rooting for you."

   You gave him a warm, genuine smile and that surely seemed to soothe him. Both of you exchanged glances for a brief moment, with tear-stained eyes.

   "You really do have a way with words, huh?" Oikawa mumbled under his breath, before he snaked his arms around your petite frame and pulled you into a hug.

   "I'm just caring for a friend, that is all." You humbly replied, before adding. "But you know, whether you're a genius or not, it still won't change the fact you just need to make sure your team scores enough points. And who knows, maybe you'll become the team's captain when we're third years. It's all up to you, really."

   You stepped back from the hug and looked up at him, sparkle in your eyes. "Rather than thinking of Kageyama as a genius, or that Shiratorizawa is undefeatable, know that your strength is not limited to this."

   You noticed the tears threatening to slip out of the corners of his eyes, and for that reason you felt like you point had been made crystal clear. Oikawa wasn't going to improve overnight, but you were willing to make sure he knew you were his number one supporter.

   "Allow your talent to bloom, Tōru."


End file.
